


Under My Skin

by Queenie_004



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Heartache, Mixtape, Pining, Romantic Gestures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 13:55:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15708597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie_004/pseuds/Queenie_004
Summary: Finn's nursing his broken heart with depressing music but his dad has an old fashioned solution that Finn comes to realize may be the way to win Rae back.Like all writers I crave feedback! Please share in the comments if you have any and thank you for reading!





	Under My Skin

 

His dad entered his room with barely a knock. “Alright then boy, time to take care of this heartbreak” he announced as he headed to the stereo where Finn was playing the same depressing record over and over. “I’m not heartbroken” Finn mumbled from his bed where he lay staring at the ceiling as he did every day since she broke up with him. His dad lifted the needle and in the silence he heard his boy’s broken sigh. He didn’t know what exactly had happened with this Rae, but he’d never seen his son quite so despondent over a girl before. Usually when it was over with one, there was another at the door waiting to take her place and Finn just sailed along through each of them. He secretly wished he’d had that sort of pull when he was the same age, then again, his son took after his mother in the good looks department.

“Yer mopin’ and not eatin’ and moonin’ off in the distance, I call that heartbreak.” Finn dragged himself to sit up and looked at his dad with a childish pout. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “What ya want anyway?” His dad brandished some records at him, “this my son, this is what you need to be listenin’ to.” Finn squinted and then looked at his dad, his face full of disdain, “You want me to listen to Frank Sinatra?” His dad laughed and said, “What yer playin’ isn’t gettin’ to the heart of the matter—it’s just a lot of wailin’ and complainin’ with loud guitars. This right here is an arrow straight to yer heart,” he pounded his chest dramatically, “lost love, unrequited love, romance, yearnin’ and everything in between.” Finn looked unconvinced and just shook his head with a simple “Nah.” But his dad wasn’t having it, “look, first side of this one, yeah?” he waved one album at him, “second side of this” and then another, “and tracks 3 and 7 on this one. Just give a few listens for me.” “Why?” Finn asked, just wanting his dad to move on so he could go back to his sad music that made him feel good about feeling so sad. “Because once when I had my heart broken yer Nan made me listen to these and it helped, a lot, truth be told.” They were both silent for a few moments until Finn looked up at his dad from hooded eyes, “anyone I know?” he asked cautiously, his dad shrugged his shoulders, “You’ll listen then?” Finn had a hard time saying no to his dad because he was a good dad—honest and fair and gave him a lot of freedom so he stood up and walked to him and took the albums, turning them over to look at the songs he was being assigned. “Ya sure dad.” His dad grinned then and cupped a palm around his son’s cheek. “I’ll leave ya to it then.” And after a wink and a smile he left the room.

***

Finn looked at the album covers—there were a lot of fedoras and cigarettes. He pulled the vinyl out of the yellowed sleeve and put the record on his player then walked over to his chair and sat down propping his feet up on the end of his bed. As the music started he began tapping his fingers as if he could hurry time up and get through the records to tell his dad he’d done it and be left alone a few more days to wallow in his own misery.

_In the wee small hours of the morning_

_While the whole wide world is fast asleep_

_You lie awake and think about the girl_

_and never, ever think of counting sheep_

_When your lonely heart has learned its lesson_

_You’d be hers if only she would call_

_In the wee small hours of the morning_

_That’s the time you miss her most of all_

Well that was accurate, corny, but accurate. He thought he missed Rae the most during the day when they were avoiding being in the same places at the same time. He didn’t want to see her because it wrecked him while he hoped she’d show up anyway because he missed her so much. But actually at night it was worse because he had no other distractions and unlimited darkness in which to dwell on their short-lived relationship and try to talk himself out of still wanting her so much. It hadn’t even been that long that he’d known her but it was like that cliché how he almost couldn’t remember the time before she was there. He knew now that the shit way he’d acted towards her at the start had been because of this weird chemical thing that happened to him when they first met. She’d walked into the pub that day, some friend of Chloe’s from school and he couldn’t explain it other than she startled him. She looked tough and cool and she challenged him almost immediately and the only way he knew how to respond was to be a dick to her. She’d showed him up in front of everybody about music, one of the few bloody things he was good at and in that moment something started churning in him that hadn’t yet stopped. It was an attraction but not just that, she scared him a little because he could tell that she could be loving and warm but that maybe somewhere deep inside her she had sharp edges and she would slice him apart somehow. And he had been right, hadn’t he? Because for weeks he’d been crawling out of his skin wanting her back and he was listening to Frank fucking Sinatra right now which would have made her double over laughing at him if she only knew.

 _My mental state is all a-jumble_ _  
_

_I sit around and sadly mumble_

_Fools rush in, so here I am_

_Very glad to be unhappy_

_I can't win, but here I am_

_More than glad to be unhappy_

_Unrequited love's a bore_

_And I've got it pretty bad_

_But for someone you adore_

_It's a pleasure to be sad_

Well the old fella was right—his ego was bruised and he was questioning everything about what he thought were signs from Rae that she liked him back—the smile she’d break into when he’d write on her with a finger tip, how she kissed him like she wanted to never stop, the way he’d catch her giving him the once over and the shy grin when she knew he’d seen her. They were growing close so quickly and it made him delirious with something that he rarely felt full of—happiness. The lads had teased him about how unrecognizable he was becoming with his smiles and easy laughter, his proud walk when he held his girl’s hand and the attentiveness he showed her that they’d never seen him do for other girlfriends. Normally he’d have grunted and shrugged off their taking the piss but he couldn’t be bothered because they were dead on. He felt like a better Finn Nelson when he was with her and it felt fucking incredible. His mind had been constantly racing with things he wanted them to do together—trips out of town on his bike and going to gigs, curry takeaway over movies at his and sitting out by the reservoir with her leaning back into his arms on a summer evening. He wanted to bring her back to the caravan and have a proper romantic night with her under the twinkling lights and flickering candles, kissing until their mouths were practically bruised as her whispered demands drew him deep inside of her. He had built an entire world and future for them in his head and was so content that the last thing he ever expected was her showing up at his door saying she didn’t want him.

***

A few days pass and he can’t stop listening to the Sinatra records. His dad was right, it’s all there, all the stuff he’s thinking about Rae and the longing to reach out to her and win her back and the depths of just how broken hearted he feels. Some of the words are outdated but nothing about the meaning of them is. There are string sections and horns and even bloody harps but there is something in the sadness of the songs that is soothing him. Sometimes when he has the headphones on it’s like he’s in some smoky bar and Sinatra himself with a fedora tipped down over his famous blue eyes is telling him this stuff in his ear. It’s weird and depressing but also a comfort in some bizarre way. It’s when he gets to the songs that are less sad and more romantic that he understands that he will make a tape for Rae of this music. He will use these words and sentiments to tell her how he feels because he knows he doesn’t have the ability to make it sound half as good as Frank does. And really, what more does he have to lose when he feels like he’s already lost it all? When his dad comes to get him for tea he’s hunched over his stereo like some sort of mad scientist, trying to create the perfect cocktail of songs to bewitch the girl he loves. His dad watches for a moment and slowly closes the door without speaking, leaving him to his creation.

***

He’d been carrying the tape in his jacket pocket for a few days. He and Rae had gotten so good at avoiding each other that now that he wanted to find her, he was having difficulty. He’d left the cassette cover blank so she wouldn’t glance at the songs and immediately shove it back at him with an eye roll. Instead he had folded up a note he wrote her and slipped it inside and knew that he was taking an enormous gamble with this entire thing, but he wanted her to hear the songs, he wanted her to hear his heart. 

_Dear Rae,_

_I've got you under my skin_  
_I have got you, deep in the heart of me_  
_So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me_  
_I've got you under my skin_

_Please just listen all the way through, I promise I have not gone (completely) mental._

_Love,_

_Finn_

His chance came when he and the boys ran into Rae and the girls outside the café before college one morning. He pulled her off to the side a bit and thrust the tape at her, “I made this for ya.” She eyed it and took it slowly as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what it had to say. “You’ll listen, yeah?” he asked and she nodded and put it inside her bag. Finn couldn’t help his grin and she looked at him suspiciously but he wished her a good day and went into the café to wrap his shaking hands around a cup of brew.

The next night the phone rang and his dad summoned him. Assuming it was Chop calling for the second time to hassle him about coming down to the pub, he bellowed, “Fuck off you knob I said I’d be there in an hour!”

“Finn?” Oh hell it was Rae. His eyes widened and he saw his dad stifling a laugh. Bastard could have warned him.

“Rae—yeah, sorry, I thought ya was Chop”

“Oh really,” she said dryly. “Finn, why am I listening to some dead bloke? Is it the 1950s outside or somethin’?”

“Frank Sinatra isn’t dead!” he had to laugh because he’d actually thought the same thing until his dad corrected him. “Did ya read my note?” She’s silent and then he hears rustling and then more silence.

“Finn…” her voice has something in it, something soft and maybe sad. He doesn’t want to talk to her though, not until she’s heard the tape.

“Listen to the songs Rae. There’s nothin’ I can say on the phone that isn’t said a lot better in those songs.” He hears her sigh and then whisper, “Night Finn.”

***

On the weekend everyone’s at the pub except Rae. He has been practicing not asking “where’s Rae?” every time he sees Chloe and Izzy but that doesn’t mean it isn’t running in a constant loop in his head. He’s at the bar waiting for the bartender to serve him when he hears her say his name. When he turns to face her he doesn’t even get a chance to greet her because she has stepped right up to him and grabbing his face she pulls him into her with a long and deep kiss. Finn thinks he hears cheering and Chop calling, “Get him Raemundo!” but all he really hears is the blood pounding in his ears because her mouth is so warm and her tongue is so soft stroking along his. His arms slip around her waist to pull her even closer and he hears her moan between the crush of their lips. When she breaks away her hands clasp around the back of his neck and he whispers so only she can hear, “Night and day, you are the one” and she breaks into a smile that makes his heart full as they rest their foreheads together, “I can’t believe you made me a tape of fucking Frank Sinatra!” she giggles, “I’m supposed to be the mad one in this relationship” He hugs her and nuzzles his face into her hair, breathing her in and feeling her in his arms he feels drunk on happiness and all those old songs about being in love feel unequivocally gorgeous and true.

***

_Night and day_

_You are the one_

_Only you beneath the moon_

_Or under the sun_

_Whether near to me or far_

_No matter, darling where you are_

_I think of you_

_Night and day_

_Day and night_

_Why it is so_

_That this longing for you_

_Follows wherever I go_

_In the roarin' traffic's boom_

_In the silence of my lonely room_

_I think of you_

_Night and day_  

**Author's Note:**

> Songs:
> 
> In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning (1955)
> 
> Glad to be Unhappy (1955)
> 
> I’ve Got You Under My Skin (1956)
> 
> Night and Day (1957)


End file.
